Blood Moon
by faefarmer
Summary: Set in IoH/SI, this story follows the life of CJ as he moves to an archipelago full of supernatural creatures. Rated M for adult language, themes, and violence/death.
1. C1 - Dusk

Mark quietly approached the swingset where his brother sat, burning up a Marlboro. The smell of smoke burnt his nostrils with the fresh sun of Spring bearing down on him. Leading him was a rusted metal dolly cart, empty and with a loose wheel.  
CJ could see out the corner of his eye that his brother was walking towards him, but kept his focus ahead of him on his cigarette. He tried his best to knit his body as far together as it would go, lest Mark sense his imminent breakdown. Two lone garbage bags and a smaller, previously used grocery bag sat unceremoniously next to the swing he was in.  
"That's it?" Mark called out as he pulled the dolly cart flush to the swingset's pole. "That's all you're bringing?"  
"I don't have much." The brother said on the swing, voice hoarse and fingers shaking.  
"Uh... well..." Mark mumbled to himself as he moved the sunbaked black bags to the cart's platform. The smaller bag fell to the ground in his shifting. "Wait, what's that?"  
CJ took another draw from his cigarette before breathing out his answer. "The money from the safe."  
Mark rushed to the bag and tore the knot away to find $500 in $20 dollar bills. He let his eyes roll over the cash before retying the bag. "Look, I hate Mom and Dad too, but come on. They could charge you for this, and you know they will. We can't make a clean break with this."  
"Shut up." CJ's eyes narrowed. "They deserve to lose it, I deserve to gain it. I don't care."  
"You're gunna care when they pull their damn lawyer into this."  
"Nope, still won't." CJ lifted himself out of the swing before dropping his finished cigarette onto the ground and stomping it out. Mark rolled his eyes and threw the bag onto its already loaded brethren. "Wait," He said as he gripped the handlebar, "that's all they had in the safe?"  
CJ shrugged and dug his hands into his shredded jeans. Mark turned the cart around and the two brothers dug their boots into the path out of the park.

* * *

CJ hung his hand over the side of the boat as the waves smoothly drifted by. Mark sat beside him, in the proper direction, scrolling through his phone. He had long since given up trying to get anything else out of CJ; he never talked much and today's earlier situation didn't help, nor did the fact that the brothers hadn't seen each other in almost five years. They had kept in touch over the internet, sure, but never too much. CJ mostly was absorbed into his own mind, and Mark mused how grateful he felt that he didn't turn out the same way.  
"You told them?" CJ's quiet, dark voice slit the air around it and startled the older brother.  
"Huh?"  
"You told everyone, didn't ya..." CJ's voice drifted off, following the waves.  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
CJ groaned and flipped himself around before snatching his own phone and tapping out a short message. He whipped himself back around to face the outside of the boat and threw his phone back into the pocket of his orange flannel overshirt. Mark was about to ask why CJ was intent on not stating it until he opened the text.  
"I didn't tell anyone. Well, Sabrina knows. That's it, I swear on God."  
"I told you not to tell her," CJ hissed at him.  
"After the fact, yeah!" Mark bit back, which earned him no response. CJ's gaze turned away again to the blue licking the boat's side.  
"It's not like it matters," CJ sighed, almost inaudibly.  
"No one will even notice, man. I've already hyped you up as my brother. They'll buy it, I swear. These are good folk."  
CJ fell silent again, and didn't speak for the rest of the trip.

* * *

The dock came in suddenly with a hard thud, knocking CJ over for a moment. Mark helped him up and grabbed the dolly cart's handle. He strolled off, his younger brother slowly and heavily following behind. A girl sat at the end of the dock on land, holding up a small banner that read, "Welcome home, CJ!" on it. The evening breeze blew her long, black hair past her purple almond-shaped eyes.  
Once the last of CJ's thick brown boots made it off the dock, the captain called the stop once more before heading back on his route. Mark hit the beach sand and wrapped an arm around the girl's waist.  
"Hey hun," He said, followed by a cheek peck.  
"Hello sweetie," Her voice was softer than the breeze itself. Her gaze turned to CJ and she smiled wider. "Hello! How was your trip?"  
CJ kept walking, head down, past the pair until he realized he had hit shore. He looked up and noticed his brother's girlfriend looking at him with a gentle smile.  
"Huh?"  
"I just wanted to know how your trip went," She said, more faulter in her voice.  
"Good."  
"That's great!"  
CJ shrugged and dipped his head, causing his long mousy-brown hair to cover his face. Sabrina folded her banner up and clutched it to her chest.  
"Alright guys, it's about high time we turned in. Ceej, you can stay with me for the night. I think the old coot is asleep by now and he's got your house keys," Mark announced.  
"'K," The brother returned. Mark patted Sabrina's shoulder as she gazed at CJ worriedly.  
"Let him be," He whispered, and the pair headed off through the rock walled entrance to the beach, CJ in tow.

* * *

CJ sat on a stool in Mark's kitchen, a towel draped over his shoulders. Sabrina was nearby, fluttering about her boyfriend's kitchen and whipping up dinner. Mark held a pair of scissors to the nape of his brother's neck.  
"So you want all the back off?"  
"All of it."  
"Like, up the bang line?" Mark held his finger at the top of CJ's head where the both the back and bangs separated.  
"Yeah. Shave it. Not a clean shave. Just shaved."  
"You sure? That's gunna look a little strange."  
"I'm sure."  
"Alright," Mark conceded, and began cutting off huge chunks of the long back until it was short enough to run his razor over. As he worked, Sabrina came around the island with a few bowls of clam chowder. She sat the tray out of the splash zone of CJ's cut hair and sat herself on the stool next to it.  
"I... I don't think we've been formally introduced," She almost whispered. CJ pointed his ear as Mark ran the razor nearby. She nodded understandably and played with a stitch on her skirt in awkward silence.  
After Mark finished, CJ ran a hand over the back of his head and smiled wide for the first time in what felt like forever.  
"How do I look?" His voice cracked as his eyes waxed misty.  
"Great," Mark and Sabrina said in near unison. CJ shoved his hands between his knees and smiled at the floor, his eyelids drooping. After a moment, Mark nudged CJ off the stool and Sabrina guided him to the couch.  
"Here, have some chowder," She chirped as she retrieved a bowl and deposited it into CJ's hands. He gazed at it for a minute before giving a small taste.  
Mark leaned over the back of the couch, remote in hand, looking for anything good to watch. Sabrina rejoined them with a bowl for Mark and herself.  
CJ gazed up at the pair. "Thanks. For this."  
"No problem," Mark smiled. Sabrina nodded. CJ looked back into his bowl and didn't look back up until it was all gone.


	2. C2 - Seeds

Morning found CJ dropped off at his new little shack and plot of land alongside a very short, elderly man. He had introduced himself as Taro and was showing the younger man around the property, but despite his best attempts to absorb the information, CJ couldn't stay focused. His mind was blank as his new reality was sinking in through his skin.  
"Now, do you know how to raise crops?" Taro questioned firmly enough to snap CJ out of his trance.  
"Uh... I guess. You plant the seeds and water 'em," CJ answered softly.  
"I mean yeah, that's the bones of it, but what about the meat?"  
CJ stared at him. "Excuse me?"  
"You gotta raise these plants with care, or they won't take care of you," The elder clarified, before seemingly ass-pulling a bag of turnip seeds and placing it into CJ's hand. "How about I get you started?"  
CJ's mind drifted back to desiring to be left alone, but he followed his new mentor into his vast new field. Taro grabbed the hoe sitting up against the shack and began fervently raking a small patch of soil.  
"Now, the trick is to keep long, even strokes."  
CJ nodded.  
"Now you place your seeds here, and here..." Taro pointed a gnarled finger at certain places in the soil.  
CJ nodded again.  
"Well, you gunna do it?"  
CJ met his gaze, and after a moment of processing, dropped to his knees to place the seeds.  
"You alright, kiddo?" Taro asked as he watched the young man slowly push seeds into the soil.  
"Mmhmm."  
"You don't seem okay. You sure you wanna do this?"  
CJ stopped his work and directed his blue eyes up at his elder.  
"I'm gunna be honest," His voice cracked, "I don't know. I just needed to leave. If this is what I have to do to earn my keep, I will."  
Taro's small eyes glinted with a hint of sorrow before he cleared his throat.  
"You coulda stayed at our inn or with Mark. You didn't hafta take the empty ranch. Your brother has the other up and profitable enough. You chose here."  
CJ looked down at the tilled soil and sat back on his legs.  
"Mark wanted his ranch. Do ya want yours? You don't have to take it. This work ain't for the undedicated."  
"I don't know."  
Taro dropped to his knees as well, and reached an arm over to put his hand on CJ's shoulder.  
"Why did ya choose this, then? What are you getting outta this?"  
CJ shuddered at the unfamiliar touch, but answered him still. "I really don't know."  
Taro grimaced and glanced at the ground. "Kiddo, I don't know why you're here, or why you came, but I can tell it ain't out of happiness. Just, promise me you'll get some help."  
CJ shook off his hand. "I don't need any. I just need to be alone."  
Taro stood up and laughed heartily. "Ah, you're just as bullheaded as your brother." CJ pointedly looked away with a scowl. "Yer a fine young lady, you'll be fine."  
The word shot CJ through the chest and shattered his funk.  
"Lady?" He looked back at Taro, his face a mix of betrayal and anger.  
"Oh, my bad. Man." Taro corrected before chuckling a bit. His chuckle drifted out as he saw CJ biting back tears. "Aw, kiddo, I'm sorry. Yer a man through and through."  
CJ forced out a strained smile back and went immediately back to pushing seeds into the soil. Taro watched him for a silent moment before excusing himself from the ranch's boundaries.

* * *

CJ pushed open the creaky wooden door to his small shack. The setting sun painted his walls with a heavy orange as the spring air flowed in through open windows. He dragged his thick brown boots across the old floorboards to his small bed. He sat down slowly.  
As his eyes scanned the area, it suddenly struck him that this was now his home. Everything he knew growing up was gone, save for a brother he hadn't seen in years. The house he spent all of his life in might as well not have existed. His schools, his spare few friends, all tucked away in a box padlocked by years past. This was his life now.  
He had wanted this, and he knew in his heart that escaping the clutch of his parents was the best thing for him. But now he was thousands of miles away from everything he had ever known, on an archipelago filled with people he never met before, and the only person he did know would be busy with his loving partner. All CJ ever wanted was to be left alone, but facing all of his loneliness at once was crushing.  
He cried.  
He curled up on the old mattress and sobbed bitterly. He was scared and alone, angry and brokenhearted. Every bad memory of his parents' torture of him and Mark scrolled through his brain, as if it were trying to convince itself it made the right choice. He sobbed for his grandfather, whom he had refused to leave alone with his parents out of fear for his safety. Anger and jealousy at and of Mark burned the corners of his eyes. Anger that he had abandoned him alone, escaped far before he could, and leaving behind their grandfather. Jealousy that he had the courage to leave, to be released from their clutches to live his life the way he wanted to.  
The last few moments of his grandfather's life replayed over and over as his crying slowed to a whimper. He fulfilled his bitter promise he screamed at his brother as he left, that he wouldn't leave him. And here he was, 22 years old and unable to process living as a singular adult. His brother, happily in love, with a successful ranch, with many friends and a solid stake in the community. Him, a broken, rotten thing, letting his bitter tears soak the old sheets underneath him. He sat back up slowly, heavy and pained. He slipped off his glasses, boots, overshirt, and jeans, and let them collect in a pile by his bed. He buried himself under the comforter and begged the goddess for sleep.


	3. C3 - Stew

As the week went by, CJ fell into a rut. He'd wake up every day, water his little patch of turnips, then wander around his farm and smoke until nightfall. His bootprints painted the dirt, sand, and grass day after day, and a trail of Marlboro wind followed his head whenever he went. One day he had even spotted a small, breakaway island off the shore of his main farmland containing a crumbling lighthouse, however he was too depressed to bother swimming over. He lived off of snacks and cigarettes that he'd send Mark along to buy with the dwindling $500 he stole. When night fell, he'd drop himself into bed and sleep for over ten hours. He'd sleep a dreamless sleep, only to wake up and repeat the process.

Saturday night fell, and when CJ headed inside his shack to dig around for another bag of chips, he discovered he no longer had any. His stomach let out a long, pained growl, and he winced. Although he knew it was inevitable, he had been banking on not having to leave his farm, and his gut flipped worse at the thought of putting himself out in public. He dug out a little map Mark had gave him that CJ threw in his nightstand without thinking, to find a bar within walking distance of the ranch named Merlotte's. He grimaced at the thought of leaving, but he tried to mentally bribe himself with the promise of alcohol if he went. And with a heavy sigh, he donned his well-worn orange flannel, buried himself deep inside, and forced himself out the door.

* * *

Merlotte's was dimly lit, and the gentle sound of distant billiard clacking and quiet conversations filled the air. CJ made a beeline for the bar, eyes fixed, less they wander and linger on someone and spark a conversation. He pulled out a stool and bellied up.  
"Hey, what can I get ya?" A light, choppy voice floated in his general direction. CJ's eyes still remained fixed on the counter itself so steady it could have burnt a hole through it, and he did not answer.  
"Hello?"  
CJ remained quiet.  
"Alright... holler if ya need anything." The young man turned on his heel and began servicing a regular patron two stools down. CJ waited until how he was sure the too-happy bartender's attention was directed elsewhere before he picked his worn wallet out of his butt pocket and thumbed through the bills inside. He looked up at the wall of drafts and bottles behind the counter, and stuck his eyes on a bottle of Captain Morgan. He remained, head down, eyes up, to wait quietly for the bartender to come back around. The less his voice was heard, the better.  
Which is why he tried so hard to avoid screeching when he felt a hand on his shoulder, however, he failed.  
"Howdy! You must be Mark's lil' brother!" A woman's voice beat his eardrum. His heart raced as his eyes darted around the bar, but thankfully, it didn't seem as if anyone noticed - or cared - about his yelp. Relieved, he stared up at his intruder as his expression twisted into anger.  
"What the hell?" He snarled as he looked up at her. She was blonde, blue-eyed, and daisy-duked. Her hair was wavy and long and curtained her round face. She didn't drop her smile for a second.  
"I've been wanting to meet ya!" She pulled up a stool next to CJ and cradled her head on her hands.  
"You didn't have to scare me like that," CJ muttered.  
"Sorry," She laughed, "I didn't mean to."  
"Mmhmm." CJ turned back away from her and looked down the bar at the bartender, who was still chatting up his regular.  
"My name's Julia Compton. Me, my ma, and my brother run the animal shop down on Verdure."  
"Mmhmm."  
"If yer lookin' to get some livestock for your farm, we're the place to go."  
"Cool."  
"Have you been meetin' folks yet?"  
"No."  
"Oh, I gotta take you to meet my family, then. We gotta get you settled in."  
"No thanks."  
Julia was taken aback by this, and sunk back a little. CJ noticed and immediately felt a little guilty. "I need to eat," He attempted to clarify.  
"Nah, it's okay. I take it you're not much of a talker."  
CJ remained silent.  
"Hey, how about you come over to our house, then? When's the last time you had a good, home-cooked meal?"  
"No thanks. I'm alright."  
"I've seen your brother buying your snacks for you at the store. Is that all you've been eating?"  
"What would it matter if it was?" CJ leaned back against the stool's backboard and folded his arms. "I'm doing fine."  
Julia cocked an eyebrow. "Folks who are fine don't usually need to convince others."  
No response.  
Julia sighed a little. "It's food that you don't have to pay for."  
"Fine."

* * *

Julia pushed open the door to the massive barn-turned-store and held it open for her reluctant dinner guest. CJ cautiously stepped in and scanned the room. It was a giant, open store area, with shelves full of animal supplies surrounded by four walls and a couple of doorways. Julia grabbed for his arm to lead him towards the direction of an archway, but released his sleeve when he jumped back in response. Not missing a beat, she apologized, and directed him to the doorway once again, without touching him.  
When he passed under he was greeted by a huge, but quaint kitchen. A woman that looked to be around Julia's age stood at the stove as she stirred a pot. She could have looked exactly like Julia, had it not been for her being short and portly with her hair cut short.  
"Ma, this is CJ, Mark's brother. You alright with him eating with us tonight?"  
CJ's eyes bugged out. *Mother*? She looked as young as the two of them!  
"Of course, hun!" The woman lidded her pot and made her way to CJ, outstretching her hand. It took him a moment to process what she wanted, and he sheepishly placed his hand into hers, only to feel his whole body seemingly lift off the ground with her strong hold. "My name's Mirabelle, it's a pleasure to meet ya."  
"Hi," His voice creaked.  
"Why don't you take a seat at the table and, Julia, go get your brother and tell him dinner's ready."  
"Yup," Julia chirped before heading off down a hallway across from the storefront.  
Once she was out of sight, CJ rubbed his hands together in nervousness.  
"Uh, I'm sorry to... be in the way, uh... Julia kinda, brought me down here. I don't eat that much. I'll be fine." Guilt swelled in the sour pit of his stomach for even staying as long as he had already. He felt extremely selfish for even considering Julia's offer. He wanted to go home.  
"Ahh, bullshit," Mirabelle smiled at him, "You ain't takin' nothin' from me, don't you worry. You're a guest tonight. You eat as much as you'd like." She took her pot off the stove and sat it on the counter. The room smelled of fresh, thick stew. CJ's stomach growled hard.  
"I knew it, get your ass down in that seat, boy." She shook her ladle at him, and he complied.  
As soon as his butt hit the seat, Julia came back in with a stride, with yet another reluctant man in tow.  
CJ tried not to let his surprise be obvious, but where as Julia and Mirabelle could pass for twins, the man he assumed to be Julia's brother looked *nothing* like the either of them. He was much taller, had a way darker skintone, with thick, long, straight silver hair and matching stubble. CJ accidentally caught the attention of his one eye uncovered by his hair. It was a surprisingly soft violet.  
"CJ, this is Vaughn. Vaughn, this is CJ." Julia smiled brightly.  
The two men paused for a moment before offering, at the same time, an acknowledging grunt.  
Julia and Mirabelle sat down at the table as Vaughn went for the fridge. CJ watched as inconspicuously as he could as he leaned in and produced a red can, popped it, and started chugging it.  
"Uhm, Vaughn hun, why are you drinking expired tomato juice?" Mirabelle hurriedly questioned. Vaughn looked at her and Julia quizzically for a moment before quickly glancing at CJ and back. The women shot him a worried look, which caused him to dump the can down the drain and toss it in the trash. CJ was completely lost. He could sense something was off, but just remained silent in his seat, eyes awkwardly darting between members of the family. Vaughn cleared his throat, grabbed the last bowl, and joined the table.

* * *

Mirabelle and Julia chatted back and forth over dinner, while Vaughn and CJ remained quiet. CJ gingerly ate his stew, his gut screeching at the joyous addition of real food. Vaughn hid under his bangs as he silently downed spoonful after spoonful.  
Julia took a break from her mother's conversation to glance at the guys. "Good lord, you guys get along so well!" She joked. CJ and Vaughn met each other's gaze for a moment before turning back down to their respective bowls, neither of which were finished. Julia and Mirabelle shrugged at each other before returning to their talk. CJ snuck another look at Vaughn out of the corner of his eye and shyly smiled to himself.


	4. C4 - Burn

After CJ closed his door on Julia's heel, her chirping her thirtieth goodbye behind it, he held himself against a wall and allowed himself to breathe for a moment. The moonlight ebbed through his uncurtained window and it wrapped him in a blanket of soft light. He felt a strange peace he never had before. Sure, Julia and Mirabelle were a little much for him, but they seemed to be honestly kind to him. With Vaughn, on the other hand, he felt some gentle solidarity with; the two hadn't said much all night, but the other man had offered him a slight smile when he had offered up a few words. Everyone in CJ's life he had ever encountered had always loved to talk and would grow short with him if he didn't reciprocate, but at the very least the Comptons were different. The women hadn't seemed to mind CJ's lack of verbal contribution, and the man seemed to be a kindred spirit.

CJ slipped off his overshirt and picked up his last cigarette off his nightstand and lit up. He cursed himself mentally after realizing he left his other pack at the Compton's house. Oh well, he'd go back and get it tomorrow. He wandered his small shack as he smoked, before arriving on the backrest of the old couch and flicking on the TV that seemed straight from the 80s.

Smoke in one hand, remote in the other, he thumbed through the basic channels before stopping on a news station that broadcasted from the city nearby the archipelago. A few local reports passed by, an elderly birthday there, a bear sighting there, and CJ was about to click it back off when the anchor caught his attention.  
"And now, an update on a missing persons case. Chelsea Stackhouse, aged 22, was found missing from her parents' home in Taylor County just last week."  
CJ's heart stopped and he almost dropped his cigarette.  
"Officials say her parents, Peter and Claire Stackhouse, confirmed that Chelsea appears to have stolen $500 and may be travelling under a fake name and posing as a man. Police have therefore began pursuing a runaway case instead. The Stackhouses also state that Chelsea is mentally ill and unable to care for herself. Any information is welcome at the tip hotline-"  
CJ's boot connected with the screen and glass shattered and sprayed outwards. After the TV fell backwards onto the wood floor, he repeatedly slammed his left foot into it until it was a pulverized mess of electronics. He screamed in bitter victory.  
He crumpled to the floor and began to sob. It was all over. Everyone that saw that would know now the very thing he had tried to keep secret. He assumed some people could have guessed by his voice, but now it was practically plastered on bright blaring neon signs to anyone who had been watching the news. He regretted leaving behind a foul, curse-laden coming out note to his parents before leaving, maybe he wouldn't have been branded with "posing as a man". He grit his teeth in anger over the fact they never bothered to do the same to Mark when he left, despite leaving in a screaming match about his own transgender status.  
CJ took his still-lit cigarette and pressed it hard into the palm of his other hand into a burn scar that had long since been there. A familiar pain flowed through his veins and he winced in relief.  
The used butt fell to the floor in front of the gorey remains of the TV. Soaked blue eyes stared into nothing as he trembled. The only thing left in his mind was his high-school yearbook picture the news station had used. His sobbing hushed to a whimper as he sat there, unmoving. His binder ached around his chest and he felt it rub painfully on his skin.

He jumped as there was a knock on the door. His mind went 0 to 60, and he held his breath as his thoughts threatened him with his parents bashing down the door to drag him back to the hell hole they called a house. He tried to remain silent, so that whoever came to turn him in would think he was asleep, but he couldn't keep himself from loudly hyperventilating.  
"Uh... hello?" A dark, deep voice came from the other side of the door. It sounded like what little he had heard of Vaughn's voice from before. Shit, he had heard him panicking.  
"Uh... it's... open," He struggled out.  
The front door slowly creaked open and a tall, dark figure stepped in cautiously.  
"You.. uh.. left your... cigarettes over at our house," Vaughn said quietly. In his hand was a box of Marlboros. It was the most words at once CJ had heard from him all night.  
"Th-th-thank you," He hiccuped.  
Vaughn couldn't help but scan the room, and he grimaced in confusion when he saw the TV.  
"You alright?"  
"Yeah," CJ held out his hand. Vaughn walked over and was about to slip the the pack to him when he noticed the fresh burn on the palm of his hand. "It-it was an accident."  
Vaughn studied his hand and then glanced back at CJ for a moment. He placed the cigarettes down on the couch and grabbed CJ's arm to pull him to his feet.  
"Wha-"  
"You brought your cigarettes home with you," He said, strong and clear. CJ stared at him confused. Vaughn's violet eyes centered on him, and it felt like he was glaring down the empty hole that was his soul. "You aren't ever going to burn yourself again. You don't know how your scar healed, and you never saw me tonight after you left. Okay?"  
CJ stared at him with a mixture of awkwardness and bewilderment painted on his face. He had no idea what else to even say to this.  
"Okay?"  
Vaughn held his free hand up to his now open mouth and seemingly bit his finger as it began to bleed slightly. CJ remained frozen in fear and confusion as Vaughn spread his blood onto the scar on CJ's open palm. The dull ache in his veins seemed to vanish immediately. Vaughn let go of CJ's arm, turned around, and left without another word.  
CJ stood there for a moment in shock before glancing down at his hand. There was no longer any blood, or scar for that matter. He sat down on the couch, eyes fixed forward.  
"What the fuck...?"


	5. C5 - Ramen

CJ awoke sprawled on his couch. As the fog cleared from his mind, his train of thought went to recollecting what had happened the night before. He glanced over his shoulder and, sure enough, his TV lay in a shattered pile on the floor. He groaned and rolled his head back over, and his eyes bore holes into the backrest.  
What *did* happen?  
He forgot his cigarettes and watched the news... saw that awful report about him... burnt himself, and then...  
Vaughn.  
Why had he come, again?  
To bring back his cigarettes, of course.  
His heart squeezed and a weird feeling cast over his mind. Did he dream it all? Vaughn somehow healing his scar - he checked, it was still not there - and his "commands", if you could even call it that. They were spoken soft, but firm. Solid and clear, but with no malice or authority behind them. A strong suggestion, perhaps, but it didn't seem to work. He *did* remember this incident, after all.  
It had been extremely uncomfortable to look him in the eyes, but they had almost seemed to glow and he couldn't tear himself away. But Vaughn's aflame violet eyes didn't hold a candle to what had followed. CJ couldn't see well in the dark, but it did definitely look like he bit his own finger hard enough to draw blood. Blood, that had erased his burn mark from his skin, then similarly disappeared itself. He *had* to have dreamt that, but his scar was undoubtedly gone. It had been a scar he put years into making. There was no way it could be erased as easily as it did.  
CJ picked himself up off his couch and groaned as his back screamed in protest. He had to go to the Comptons'. He had to get answers.

* * *

CJ pushed open the door to the animal store as cautiously as his racing heart could manage and stepped in. Mirabelle stopped unboxing stock onto a shelf and turned around to greet her customer, to be met with CJ.  
"Well howdy there, hun, how are ya doin' today?"  
"M'fine," He replied quietly as he stood in the doorway.  
"Hey, hun, could you do me a big favor and close that door?"  
CJ looked at the door frame before rushing himself in and closing it. "Sorry."  
"It's alright hun, don't worry. Now what can I do for ya?" She brushed off her hands on her dress and walked towards the shop counter.  
"I... I actually wanted to talk to Vaughn, is he... uh... in?"  
"Oh no, I'm afraid not. He'll be back Monday."  
"I... okay."  
"Why? What did ya need to see him about?"  
"I wanted to... uh... ask him something, I guess."  
"I'm really sorry, then. You just missed him, he left last night."  
"He'll be back Monday?"  
"Yup."  
CJ bit his tongue for a moment, then looked back at her. "Where... where did he go?"  
"Oh, he's an animal trader, honey. Every week he has to head out for two or three days and arrange shipments of animals to different places, things like that."  
"Oh, okay."  
Mirabelle put a hand on her hip. "You sure it's nothing I could help with? Vaughn ain't much for talkin' to folks."  
CJ threw his hands into his jeans' pockets and looked at the floor. "It's... hard to explain. I'd probably sound like a nutcase."  
"I've been around for a long time, hun. I've seen some shit."  
"Um... well, I forgot my cigarettes here last night and Vaughn came to drop them off. And uh... he kind of caught me in the middle of... a situation. I wanted to clear the air."  
Mirabelle raised an eyebrow. "A situation?"  
"No, no, no. I mean like. I was kind of freaking out over something."  
"Ah, I see. I'm pretty sure Vaughn didn't even notice."  
*Oh, he noticed*, CJ thought, but kept his mouth closed. Mirabelle picked up a rag and began wiping down the front counter and register.  
"Well, did you need anythin' else, honey?"  
"No, I guess not."  
"Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like."  
CJ nodded politely, then walked back out the door, making sure to fully shut it.

* * *

CJ shoved open the door to his shack with his shoulder and wiggled in his few bags he had forced himself to pick up at the small grocery store in town. It was nothing more than some packs of ramen and some eggs, but it was food. He began unpacking them onto his counter when the setting sun glinted off the broken glass screen of the TV caught his eye. It had been sitting there all day, waiting for someone to deal with it. He looked back to his groceries, his eyes low and dark. Having to touch it meant having to directly face the fact he was the one that destroyed it in the first place; as if shattering the electronic with his boot would make the runaway report disappear from the airwaves. He clenched one hand into a fist and repeatedly banged it on the counter until his blood ran warm with relief.  
Soon his meager supplies were sorted and stashed, and he collapsed into a pile on the couch. He slipped one last cigarette between his lips and struck his lighter. His thick cloud wafted close to the slightly ajar window and his sullen eyes followed it. His mind raced through worries of what to do when his dwindling funds ran out, if he should try speaking to Mark again, getting so drunk he couldn't breathe, when Vaughn would be back. He slipped his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and set a reminder for Monday.


	6. C6 - Saturday

Saturday morning arrived, and CJ set out to water his turnips before bothering to put on pants, cigarette in his other hand. His dark, grayed eyes cast over his plants. They looked like they might ripen enough soon, but he hadn't even worked out what to do with them when they *were* ready. Does he sell them? To who? Eat them? But he hated turnips. He thought about asking Mark, but he wasn't even sure he wanted to speak to him right now. After CJ had stopped texting him to pick up his food and cigarettes, Mark hadn't said a single word. His fingers tightened around his rusty can until his knuckles turned white.  
"CJ?"  
He didn't respond or look up. He knew his brother's new voice now too well from the brief samples he'd heard so far. Mark slipped past the ranch gate and walked up to where CJ stood in his underwear, smoking and intensely focusing on a turnipless patch of dirt he was apparently watering.  
"Are... are you alright?"  
CJ remained motionless and silent.  
"I... I haven't heard from you in a few days. Just wanted to make sure you were okay."  
"Who cares," CJ forced out, his voice hoarse. He tipped up his watering can, stomped out his cig, and started to walk towards his house.  
"I do," Mark fell in step behind him. "When's the last time you ate?"  
"Last night."  
"Did I do something wrong? Why are you acting like this?"  
CJ opened his door and looked over his shoulder at him for a moment, before stepping quickly inside and slamming the door in Mark's face. The door lock clicked.  
"CJ! What the hell?" Mark knocked on the door a couple of times, as if it would magically open again for him.  
"Go the fuck away."  
"What did I do?!"  
A minute of silence, then the door lock clicked again and CJ opened the door slightly.  
"You're still here, that's what."  
"I can't check up on my brother? You suddenly stopped asking me for shit, how am I supposed to know if you're okay?"  
"I don't want to talk to anyone."  
"Not even me? I thought you wanted to hang out again now that you're here, like we used to."  
"I didn't come here to hang out with you. I had you come get me because I didn't have any other choice."  
Mark looked a little crestfallen, but straightened himself back up. "I miss you, man. I was hoping we could have some kind of relationship again, now that you came out too."  
CJ took a deep breath, then lost all restraint.  
"Me not being out wasn't the fucking problem. It was you fucking abandoning me with Mom and Dad! I don't give a shit if you got me out now or not anymore! I can't get over the fact you left me to drown there alone!"  
"I didn't abandon you, holy shit. I tried to get you to come with me! You wouldn't go!"  
"Because I was the only one of us who even gave half a shit about our fucking granddad!"  
"I didn't fucking abandon him! Holy shit! I've told you-"  
"He couldn't fucking take care of himself, Mark! You were planning to leave him there to wither and die!"  
"Mom and Dad would have t-"  
"No! They wouldn't! Because they didn't! Who the hell do you think was bringing him food every fucking day? It wasn't them!" CJ ended on a shriek. Mark went silent.  
"I... I didn't know that."  
"Yeah, you didn't. Because you didn't fucking care."  
"I did care! I loved him! He told me to go! He wanted us both out of there!"  
"Of course he did! He knew what they'd do to us both if they found out! But I wasn't going to leave him to die alone of starvation like you!"  
"I didn't-"  
"Shut the fuck up!" CJ screamed and slammed his door again. He reopened it just enough, then slammed it again. And again. And again.  
"Stop it!" Mark gripped the handle and held the door in stasis, both brothers pushing equally from either side. "I! Had! To! Leave! I was going to fucking kill myself if I stayed one more day with them!"  
"You don't think I've tried?!" CJ screamed into a sob.  
"CJ-"  
"Why don't you just fucking call me Chelsea?! Huh?! Why not just keep beating it in to me that you are better than I will ever be?!"  
"What are you talking about?!"  
"Oh look at Mark, he left home at 18, he got to transition, he got to leave behind everything that hurt him, he got to run his whole ass stupid fucking ranch! He got everything he fucking wanted! He got to just *leave*! You got to just... leave..." CJ's voice slowed into hitched breaths.  
"Is... is this what this is about? You're *jealous* of me?" Mark tried to say as softly as possible, but couldn't control his pounding chest.  
CJ looked away, his face overflowing with heavy tears. He slowly and gently pushed the door closed, then opened, then closed, then opened.  
"CJ..."  
The younger brother stared off to the side, his eyes still dull and dark, devoid of any soft blue. "Just... leave me alone."  
"But-"  
"Leave me alone!" CJ suddenly screeched as loud as he could, and with one final heave, slammed the door so hard Mark could have sworn he heard wood snap. Mark stood, stunned, staring at the door. He heard CJ sobbing hard and bitterly, muffled by shoddy walls.  
"i'm sorry," He whispered into the door, before turning and slowly walking away.

* * *

CJ slowed to a stillness for a moment before lighting up a new cigarette. He had long since stopped caring about how much he was smoking, he'd be dead soon anyway, he figured. His eyes glazed over and his unbrushed bangs hung covering most of his face. He zoned out until he got to the end of his latest round, and held up his hand to put it out. Except, something stopped him. He stared at his now-unburnt left hand as the ashes began to pool on his right leg. His mind drifted to Vaughn. He wanted to, so bad. He almost did. To burn himself again. To pull his lighter out even, and hold the flame underneath. To set himself on fire. He'd smoked so much he might as well be his own cigarette.  
But he couldn't.  
He could, but he felt like he'd betray the only person that seemed to care enough to even notice what he'd been doing. A person, that he had only known for a few hours, and would likely never speak to much ever again. Vaughn probably even forgot about the whole thing, and bringing it up when he arrived on Monday seemed fruitless. He probably didn't even remember CJ's name, much less want to ever speak to him again. He probably just had pity on CJ's pathetic state. He crushed the cigarette on the floorboard and left it there.  
He bundled himself up in his own arms and relived the first night he hadn't been alone in so many years. Mirabelle's hearty laugh and doting personality. Julia's compliments on his haircut. The way Vaughn shook his head when Mirabelle and Julia went off on life story tangents. The slight smirk and chuckle from Vaughn when Julia teased him about not talking much. The way Vaughn ate with his spoon in his left hand and using his right to gently press his knuckles repeatedly into the edge of the table. The way Vaughn held his wrist that night and seemed to be just as uncomfortable making eye contact as CJ was. There was something so comforting about his quiet presence, but CJ's face soon seized up into a grimace and he hid it beneath his arms. Was he really getting attached to the first man that showed him any vague sense of kindness?


	7. C7 - Sunday

Sunday morning's sun bared down on the little shack and CJ awoke to the sound of someone knocking on his door. He groaned and rolled himself out of bed and headed to the door, still not spending any precious energy on putting on pants.  
"Who's there," He halfheartedly pushed out of his throat.  
"Mark," his brother's voice came, "I brought you a gift."  
CJ scowled and opened his door a crack. "I don't want it. Go away."  
"You sure?" Mark chimed as he held up a very round, very well-behaved chicken. CJ's eyes widened.  
"You're giving me... a chicken?"  
"Not just any chicken," He lowered her a bit and pet her head. "This was my first chicken. I named her Adele."  
"Adele... after grandma?"  
"Yup. She's been very special to me, and I know she will be to you." Mark gently pushed on the door to open the crack wide enough to place Adele in CJ's hands. He held her awkwardly, but she didn't seem to mind much.  
"This is... cool and all, but I don't have a coop."  
"Yes, you do." Mark goaded him outside to see a hunched over slab of muscle of a man nailing the final boards on a tiny coop from across the field.  
"The hell?"  
"This is Gannon, the local carpenter."  
CJ waved sheepishly as the man looked up to the mention of his name, and then waved back.  
"If you're going to be a rancher, you're going to need livestock, so I decided to get you started."  
"I don't want your pity, Mark."  
"It's not pity," Mark spun on his heel to face him. "I expect you to pay me back one day when your ranch is as big as mine." He winked.  
"Shut up," CJ shouldered past him and walked near the small pond by the gate, chicken in hand. "We both know you only did this because of us fighting yesterday. You wouldn't have given a shit otherwise."  
"That's... not true. I had wanted to give you Adele, when you got your first coop."  
"You know I wasn't actually planning to put too much work into this whole ranch garbage, right?"  
Mark bit back disappointment. "I thought you wanted to be a rancher."  
"I wanted to farm a little to keep food in my stomach. I wasn't planning on chasing your shadow."  
"You wouldn't be."  
"Whatever. I'll take care of her. But don't expect me to start bringing in a horde of fucking cows and having crops as tall as my fucking house."  
Mark folded his arms. "Man, even when I try to make up with you you still cuss me out."  
"Good, you deserve it." CJ sneered.  
"Whatever, man. You're welcome."  
"Thanks." CJ groaned. Mark smirked and gave Adele a pat on the head.  
"Awright fellas, coop's all done. Enjoy." Gannon strolled past the pair of brothers and headed towards the gate, seemingly unaware of the tension. Mark wished him goodbye.  
"Oh yeah, hang on." Mark threw his backpack on the ground and pulled out a bag of chicken feed. "This'll last ya for a bit but I recommend you buy more real soon."  
"Yeah. Alright."  
"Well, I gotta get going. Have fun."  
"That's it? You show up with a chicken at my door and everything's okay?"  
"I'd hoped, yeah."  
"... Whatever." CJ turned away and walked towards the new coop. Mark shook his head and left the ranch.

* * *

CJ slid open the door to the coop and gently sat Adele inside. He spread some feed into the little box by the door, but the hen was uninterested. He silently watched her waddle around the floor before settling down into a pile of hay. He stood, motionless. Adele pointed her beak in CJ's direction and let out a small cluck.  
He slowly slid down on his legs by the wall, and the hen picked herself back up and walked over to him. He held out a hand anxiously and she met it, pushing her small head into his palm. He pet her softly. He sat in the stillness before a knock on the coop door made him jump and shriek, and made Adele squawk.  
CJ tore open the door with a scowl to see Mark yet again, this time accompanied by another man around their age. Short, pink hair cut straight just above his 70s glasses. CJ wanted to shove him in a locker.  
"CJ, this is Elliot Merlotte." Elliot seemed to stare vacantly at CJ, like he was in a trance. He shook his head and gave a smile.  
"Hi, CJ! Me and my family run the island's exports and, of course, Merlotte's."  
CJ stared blankly right through him. "Okay? Why are you here?"  
"Sorry, he's a bit... shy," Mark chuckled.  
"I'm not shy," He said flatly. Mark rubbed the back of his neck.  
"Well, your... uh... brother certainly reminds me of *someone*," Elliot laughed into Mark's ear.  
"Nah, CJ isn't as much as a jerk as Vaughn is."  
"I'm right fucking here." CJ's grip on the door tightened. "Also, Vaughn ain't a fucking jerk."  
The two other men's smiles dropped.  
"You've met Vaughn?" Mark's face twisted in bewilderment.  
"I... had dinner with the Comptons the other night, why?" His blue eyes narrowed. "Is that a problem?"  
"No, no," Both men backpedaled in unison.  
"Just, be careful about Vaughn," Elliot said softly.  
CJ shook his head, but bit his tongue. "Why the hell are you here again?"  
"Oh!" Elliot chirped right back to form, and held up his clipboard. "I wanted to set up shipments from your farm. We'll buy crops, animal products, you name it. Every day at 5pm, shoot me a text if you've got something to sell and someone will come pick up your goods and give you the cash. Here are our rates." Elliot held him out a laminated sheet typed out in comic sans. "Rates depend on quality, but we'll buy literally anything. If you don't like our price for something, we can negotiate."  
CJ stared at the sheet. "'Kay."  
"My number's up on the top there," Elliot tapped on the top of the sheet. "And... feel free to text me anytime, about anything." He winked.  
CJ stared at him. "... 'Kay."  
"Well Mark, if that's everything, I gotta get going."  
"Sure. Thanks, Elliot." Mark waved at him as he bounced off.  
As soon as Elliot was out of earshot, CJ's voice cracked the air.  
"What do you have against Vaughn?"  
Mark stared back at him. "What do you mean?"  
"Why ya'll telling me to stay away from him? He didn't act like a jerk to me." CJ's eyes shifted to the side and he pressed the laminated sheet's edge into his palm where the burn mark used to be.  
"Me and Elliot just, never really got along with him. He's always either ignoring us or trying to start shit."  
"Maybe you're just upset he won't socialize back with you the way you want him to." His eyes fell dark.  
"Why are you so intent on defending him? You don't even know him."  
CJ let his eyes fall to the side. "I think... I think he's like me." He began pressing his knuckles into the door frame gently.  
Mark watched him for a moment before putting the pieces together. "I don't know about that. I think he's just an asshole."  
CJ stopped and looked at his nose. "You wouldn't pick up on the stuff I do."  
"You think he's hot, don't you?"  
"What?!" CJ stared aghast.  
"Come on, he's your type, and -"  
"My type?!"  
"Tall, long hair, beard. You know."  
"Oh, shut the fuck up." CJ growled.  
"I knew it. You think he's hot, so you're gunna defend him no matter how he acts."  
"I don't think he's fucking hot, and even if I did, what does it fucking matter? Why does that give you an excuse to dismiss me?"  
"'Cause you're blinded by the gay."  
"Leave me the fuck alone." CJ turned around and stormed back into the coop, Adele darting in between his feet.  
"Come on, man! Why do you have to turn everything into a fight?"  
CJ stopped, his back turned. "Because you drive me bonkers. Everything I do or say is nothing but a big fucking joke to you."  
Mark's chest fell. "I'm... I'm sorry, then. 'Cause it ain't a joke."  
CJ looked over his shoulder. "You weren't like this before."  
"Huh?"  
"You didn't act like this before you left home," His voice was a bit quieter. "You changed."  
Mark stared at his shoes. "I didn't try to. I still care about you. You're still my brother."  
CJ turned around and met his gaze. "I wish you were mine." He softly closed the coop door in his face.


	8. C8 - Monday

His turnips seemed ripe enough from what he could tell. They certainly weren't the best looking turnips in the world, but they might make him back the price of the seeds at least. He pulled his phone back out and tapped the number under "creepy nerd" he had entered last night. He stared down at his meager harvest and grimaced. This is why he didn't want to do this ranching shit.  
After a few minutes of struggling with trying to separate produce from stalk, he held in his hands nine small turnips. He cautiously sat them down in the small wooden box by the mailbox, like Elliot had texted him to, and power walked away like he was afraid of the shipping box spitting them back out at him. He flew to his new coop and grabbed a scoop of chicken feed from by the door.  
"Adele?" CJ called out softly. The round chicken wiggled in her nest and came to her new owner. In her wake, the hen had left behind a singular egg. CJ seemed enchanted by it. He picked it up and rolled it gently in his palm.

* * *

CJ slipped through the doorway of the animal shop and took extra care to seal the door fully shut this time. Mirabelle greeted him heartily and he politely smiled back. Off by the back wall, Vaughn stood on a ladder rearranging and cleaning the topmost shelf. Mirabelle saw him gazing up at Vaughn and smiled.  
"How are ya doin' today, honey?"  
CJ jumped a little and turned to Mirabelle. "I... I'm fine."  
"Good, good."  
CJ turned back to Vaughn and took slow, heavy steps towards him.  
"Hey... um... Vaughn? Could I ask you something?"  
No response. Mirabelle pursed her lips. CJ almost let a second call out slip, but couldn't find the voice. Vaughn was intently wiping down the old boards, so intently that he didn't even give any response when Mirabelle tried calling out for him the first time either. When she yelled his name again, he jerked his head towards her in surprise.  
"CJ's gotta talk to you, hun." She said, almost exasperated. Vaughn silently lowered himself down the ladder before brushing his hands off on his black, worn jeans.  
"What?" He said so thin and flat it didn't sound like a question at all.  
"Could, could I ask you something, alone?" CJ stuttered. He didn't notice his hands were shaking a little, or that he was still holding the egg.  
"No." Was his response, and Vaughn latched both gloved hands back on the ladder and hoisted a boot up on the bottom rung.  
"It's... it's about Friday night, when you came over."  
Vaughn froze and he stared back at CJ. "What?"  
"To drop off my cigarettes."

* * *

Vaughn closed his bedroom door behind CJ and folded his arms. His room was almost solid black and plain, with a thick, heavy curtain blocking out what remained of the sunset's light.  
"Now, what the hell?" His voice was low and his drawl was thick.  
"What?"  
"I didn't come by your house."  
"Yes you did. I ate dinner with ya'll, and left my cigs, and you brought 'em to me."  
"No I didn't."  
"Yes, you did. And you healed my hand, somehow. And tried to hypnotize me or something into forgetting. I'm not stupid."  
Vaughn looked slightly horrified, but kept his even tone. "I don't know what the fuck you're talkin' about."  
"How do you not remember?" CJ threw his hand into Vaughn's face, palm up. "Look at my hand!"  
He half-stepped back. "What about it?"  
"Exactly! I had a burn mark in the middle of my hand, and you healed it, with like, your blood or something..." CJ trailed off and turned his hand around to glance at it again.  
"You're insane."  
"No, I'm not," CJ grit his teeth. "Just, tell me how you did it. I don't get it."  
"I think you, uh, mighta dreamed that. I don't know."  
CJ's shoulders fell and he stared at the ground. "I... I don't know. I... I just... wanted to thank you for it."  
Vaughn stared at him in bewilderment. "Uh... okay."  
"Here, uh... I want you to have this, I guess, I don't honestly know why I brought it with me, but. Uh..." CJ held up the egg in his other hand.  
"...An egg?"  
"Uh... yeah."  
"…Okay." CJ put it into Vaughn's hand, and their fingers grazed. CJ felt a calm wave flow over him.  
"I'll... I'll go now."  
"'Kay."

* * *

"So, what was that about?" Mirabelle asked after the sound of the door sealing shut filled the room.  
"I... may have fucked up." Vaughn pulled his hat down over his eyes.  
Mirabelle stepped out from behind the register and walked up to his side. "I'm sure it's fine, son."  
"No, it ain't. He remembers me trying to glamour him."  
"Vaughn!" Mirabelle scolded and gripped his shoulder. "You do know he's Mark's brother, right? You can't glamour him."  
"I didn't know that." Vaughn grimaced. "Shit."  
Mirabelle shook her head and squeezed his shoulder. "Why did you even try? I thought you didn't like glamouring folks."  
"I..." Vaughn stared at the door. "I don't wanna say. It's his business. None of mine."  
"Alright, then. Wait, where did you get that egg?"

* * *

CJ's eyes glazed over as Elliot carried on, about three paragraphs deep in his well-rehearsed twenty paragraph essay. He ran his fingers on the inside of his pants pocket on the denim texture in a desperate attempt to stimulate his brain.  
"So, according to my scoring rubric, which, by the way-" he handed CJ another laminated sheet, "-here's your copy, I could pay you $26. Is that alright with you?"  
"That much for nine shitty turnips?"  
"We sell under an organic label. You'd be surprised how much people would pay for non-industrial produce."  
"...Uh-huh." CJ immediately fell back out of interest. He tried to read the scoring paper but all the words and numbers ran together like thick oil.  
"So... are you doing anything tonight?" The other man asked as he started loading up the turnips.  
"Smoking, sleeping, shit like that." CJ said quietly.  
"Would you like to go out for dinner with me?"  
CJ stared at him. "Are you asking me out?"  
"Maybe, maybe not." Elliot smiled, painfully awkwardly.  
"I'd... rather not." CJ retreated a little into his orange flannel.  
"I'll pay for everything. You can get whatever you want. Please?"  
"...Fine."  
"Awesome! Now let me get these babies on down to the house and I'll be back to pick you up," Elliot chirped.  
"Whatever." CJ dug his hands into his pockets and dove into his shack. He really wanted to shove Elliot in a locker.


	9. C9 - Date

CJ was losing his mind.  
"So, as I was saying, I think it's really important for people in the shipping business to be passionate about their work, how else is anything going to get done? We pour every loving bead of sweat into every crate we pack, we change people's lives with our products."  
CJ began pounding his fist into the booth seat repeatedly. Elliot didn't seem to notice.  
"And I know that I've must have said this a hundred times already, but I'm just so very thankful you wanted to work with us to ship your things. You're going to change the world with your farm, CJ. I just know it."  
"Uh-huh."  
"You are incredible." Elliot leaned forward on his hands and stared dreamily at CJ. "You are so much more than any girl I've ever been with."  
CJ's breath held in his chest and his fist froze under the table.  
"Uh... okay."  
"Oh look, here comes dinner!"  
He exhaled in relief. He planned on fleeing the second he took his last bite.  
A rather effeminately-dressed man with long, curly hair came up with a pair of plates and sat them down. Elliot's face twisted in confusion.  
"Denny? Where's Emma?"  
"We switched tables," Denny replied, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "And I can see why."  
"Can't you see I'm on a date here?" Elliot motioned toward CJ, who shrunk back in his seat. Denny looked at him, concerned.  
"You poor thing." He shook his head before walking away.  
"Sorry about him." Elliot stuck a fork in his stir-fry.  
"He was fine," CJ was barely audible over the noise of the other patrons.  
"He's my cousin, my mom gave him a job here, probably specifically to annoy me."  
"Okay."  
"I like him, he's just always insulting me. I try to be nice, but he rejects every peace offering I give him. I'm not sure where I took a wrong turn. Family's got to stick together, right?"  
"Yeah."  
"Besides, I don't understand why he needs this job. He's a fisherman and we're surrounded by water. Surely he'd be well off, right? Why does he need to come here just for more chances to come after me? I'm completely unsure on how I wronged him."  
"Uh-huh."

* * *

CJ stood outside, back against Merlotte's back wall, cigarette between his lips.  
"Well, that was a fucking nightmare," He said to himself.  
"Yup, that it was." Denny answered as he came around the corner of the building, nearly sending CJ flying in surprise. CJ grasped his heart and turned to him.  
"You scared the shit out of me."  
"Sorry, hun. May I?" He motioned to the wall. CJ nodded and Denny leaned against it as well, taking out his own cigarette and lighting up. He turned to look at him, hand on his hip and smoke cloud escaping his mouth. "Now why, pray tell, were you out with him?"  
"Free food." CJ turned his stare directly ahead.  
Denny laughed. "Yeah, I've been there. Was it worth it, at least?"  
"Food's good, yeah."  
"Good enough to stand him for a night?"  
"Maybe not that good."  
Denny laughed harder and took another drag. "Yeah, god. Every time that boy gets a date he has to come rub it in and how it has to be perfect, has to tell everyone about this new girl. Then the girl always ends up bolting after a date or two."  
CJ turned to him, barely raising his voice above a whisper. "He... he was calling me a girl?"  
"Yeah, hun, he was out tellin' everyone about his new girlfriend. I'm sorry."  
CJ slid down the wall and grabbed his knees. Denny bit his lip.  
"I'm never gunna be able to escape this, am I."  
"Escape what?"  
CJ looked forlornly to the side. "I... I can't say."  
"Alright, hun, that's fine. You say it when you're ready."  
No response.  
"Hey, I'm off work now. Why don't you come hang out with me for a bit?"  
CJ looked up at him quizzically. "Why?"  
Denny shrugged. "Just to hang out." He offered his hand down to him.  
CJ looked at it cautiously before putting his hand inside the fisherman's.

* * *

"Shea, baby, I'm home from work," Denny called in as he unlocked the door to his beach-side shack. Footsteps came closer the door, revealing a taller man with spiky hair. He kissed Denny gently before meeting CJ's gaze.  
"Who's this?"  
"Elliot's latest victim."  
"Ah, my apologies," Shea said with a chuckle before holding out his hand. CJ gave a little smile and slipped his hand in to receive a strong handshake. "My name is Shea Velasquez, and yours?"  
"CJ."  
"Just CJ?"  
"Stackhouse," He clarified.  
"Ahh, you must be the guy Mark's told us all about," Shea grinned wide. "It's nice to finally meet you."  
"Thanks," He replied sheepishly.  
Denny ushered them all inside and showed CJ to the bleedingly vibrant purple couch. Denny and Shea's home wasn't very big, but it was cozy, with precious heirlooms and small bottles all over their shelves. It almost looked like something out of a fantasy movie.  
Shea put his phone away into the pocket of his hoodie. "He's on his way, babe."  
Denny smacked his hands together. "Great, great. Did you tell him we have an extra guest tonight?"  
"Yeah, he's okay with it." Shea chuckled. CJ's eyes darted between them.  
"Who?"  
"Ah, no one you've probably met before. He keeps to himself." Denny smiled. "We have a weekly night where we get together and hang out, the three of us."  
"You have great timing," Shea thumped the back of the couch. "Not going to lie, we can get pree-ty crazy."  
CJ looked up at him, confused.  
"We play video games and smoke weed," Denny said with a hand wave, the many bracelets on his arm being thrown about.  
"Aww, don't ruin the surprise." Shea leapt over the back of the couch and landed with a thud on his ass. Right as he did, a knock rang out and Denny flew to the door.  
"Heeeyy!" Denny greeted their guest, throwing his arms around him in a hug. He walked the newest arrival inside, and CJ's pupils shrank.  
Vaughn stared back at him, confused.


	10. C10 - Ghost

CJ watched as Vaughn exchanged greetings with the couple, and waited for a moment to worm in his own, small "Hi." Vaughn nodded at him in acknowledgement, but turned away after.  
A small dog resembling a wolf bolted like lightning through the doorway and past Vaughn and Denny. Shea called out in joy as the dog seemed to fly and land straight into his lap.  
"My little Ghost, hello! Hello!" The dog licked all over his face, his tail wagging so fast it could power a generator. As soon as Ghost saw CJ sitting next to Shea, however, he leapt straight into his lap. He froze, and stared at the dog begging for attention.  
Vaughn noticed and clicked his tongue twice, and Ghost calmed down immediately and jumped down to the floor, where he sat up straight.  
CJ allowed himself to exhale.  
"This is Ghost, and he's a very good boy," Shea spoke as if he were speaking of his own child. He reached down to scratch the canine under his chin.  
"He's cute," CJ said above a whisper. It wasn't a lie, but he was already barely processing what was going on in the first place. Shea motioned to his lap, and Ghost jumped up again, but settled and curled up in his lap. Shea began slowly stroking his fur and turned his attention up to the dog's owner.  
"Vaughn, this is CJ, Mark's brother." He looked over at CJ and smiled. Vaughn looked over at CJ, almost like he was waiting for CJ to continue the introduction.  
"We've, uh, met before."  
Vaughn nodded yes.  
"Oh, great!" Shea chirped.  
Vaughn and CJ both found other things to look at than each other.  
"Hey, Vaughn, I got your drinks in the fridge, hun." Denny broke the awkward silence and motioned toward the refrigerator up against the back wall.  
Vaughn nodded again, but grabbed Denny's hand and led him back to the kitchen where the two began talking in hushed tones. CJ couldn't make out a single word, and was beginning to zone out, when he noticed Shea had stood up and there was now a dog-shaped weight in his lap. He quietly picked up where Shea had left off, with a small scratch behind Ghost's ear.

* * *

"Wait, what's the problem?" Shea joined in when he reached the pair in the kitchen.  
"CJ doesn't know about Vaughn. About any of us. Mark never told him."  
"Ma said he went around askin' everyone to not say anythin'." Vaughn slipped a red can out of the fridge and began sipping it.  
"Well, do we tell him? He's going to find out eventually." Shea crossed his arms in concern.  
"I don't think we should," Denny looked over Shea's shoulder to the unmoving figure on his couch.  
"Apparently, he's been through some shit. Dunno if he could handle it." Vaughn said before he started to guzzle the can down.  
"Maybe we should call off tonight then, and figure something else out." Denny watched Vaughn as he shotgunned the rest of the drink.  
"That's not very fair to CJ," Shea frowned, but stopped and joined Denny at staring. "What are you doing?"  
Vaughn finished and crushed the can. "I'll be alright on one can, if ya'll wanna keep him here."  
"Are you sure?" Denny took the can from him and threw it in their recycling bin by the stove.  
"Yeah, yeah," Vaughn said as he covered his mouth for a moment. A small, sharp pop sounded and he dropped his hand again.  
"He seems... very sad, not all there." Shea said as he looked back at CJ, who still had not moved from his position.  
"He just came off a date with Elliot." Denny folded his arms and leaned back on the fridge.  
"Ew," Vaughn narrowed his eyes.  
"So what are we doing tonight?"  
The trio all turned to look at CJ in unison, before collectively dropping their gazes to the floor.  
"I think I have an idea."

* * *

Vaughn placed down a collapsible food and water bowl by the door, and Denny cast a sheet over the bird cage that CJ had somehow not noticed until now.  
"You be a good boy, and protect Kuu, okay?" Vaughn said quietly to Ghost as he put some dry food and water out. The dog jumped up to lick his face as confirmation before taking a quick drink. CJ and Shea stood by the door, watching.  
"So... where are we going?"  
Shea smiled at him. "Have you ever been up the mountain?"  
"There's a mountain?"  
"Yes, the path up is by the church."  
"...There's a church?"  
Shea laughed. "Yes, not that anyone uses it anymore."  
"Why are we goin' there?"  
Shea opened the small backpack he held and whipped out a giant ziploc filled with weed. CJ's eyes bugged out, and Shea laughed again.  
"Relax, you don't have to smoke with us. It's mostly just to watch the stars."  
"It's very peaceful up there this time of night," Denny chimed in as he and Vaughn gathered at the door. Next thing CJ knew, he was being herded out the door so Denny could lock it.

* * *

CJ remained silent for most of the walk, keeping a foot between him and his newfound group. He hadn't really figured out why he was still tagging along, other than the fact that he was lonely as hell. Being around Vaughn was awkward, especially after their exchange earlier in the day, but Vaughn was as quiet as before and was at least mercifully not announcing the incident to Shea and Denny. His hands were firmly sewn into his jeans' pockets, and his eyes to the road below him.  
"Hey, CJ!" The group stopped to a halt so fast that he almost rammed into them. Elliot came jogging up to the quartet. "How come you just left? I've been looking for you everywhere!"  
CJ turned away and considered running off towards the beach.  
"Maybe you should just leave him alone," Denny stepped forward.  
"I should have known you ran off with her." Elliot narrowed his eyes and adjusted his glasses. CJ wilted. He decided to make good on his idea and began walking away.  
"*Him*", Denny snarled. CJ stopped in his tracks. Vaughn and Shea glanced at each other.  
"Oh, whatever. Whatever she wants to be called, I guess."  
"And then you wonder why nobody wants to be around you," Denny took another step forward, causing Elliot to shrink back. "You call CJ 'she' one more time and I'll whoop your ass."  
"Oh, come on! She even still looks like a girl! I don't get what the big deal is." Shea locked his arms around his boyfriend to hold him back.  
"He's more of a man than you'll ever be!" Elliot was aghast, but continued nonetheless.  
"Oh, please! You saw the same report everyone else did, she's pretending to be a man! I just wanted to help."  
Vaughn looked away from the screaming match to see CJ, kneeling on the ground with his arms wrapped around himself, rocking back and forth. Denny, Elliot, and Shea's voices all faded from his attention and he slowly walked over to the crumpled up man on the ground.  
"You okay?"  
CJ didn't respond.  
Vaughn sat on the side of the road next to him. "Don't blame you."  
"Everyone," CJ's hoarse voice creaked, barely above a whisper.  
"Hmm?"  
"Everyone... saw... that..." CJ's eyes glazed over and he grew completely still.  
"I didn't."  
CJ took out his phone and after a moment of typing, handed Vaughn his phone to read. It was a news article about the missing persons' report that had aired. Vaughn silently handed the phone back after reading.  
"Everyone knows now," CJ finally allowed tears to well in his eyes.  
Vaughn folded his arms over his knees and stared ahead. "Don't matter none to me," He said.  
They were interrupted by Denny storming over to them, Shea in tow.  
"Come on, guys, let's continue our evening." He was obviously still steaming, but Elliot was walking away in the opposite direction and Shea seemed relieved. Vaughn rose to his feet and held his hand down to CJ.


	11. C11 - Echo

CJ sat on the far side of the flat, balcony like top of the small mountain and he subconsciously put just a little more distance between himself and Vaughn than Vaughn had between himself and Denny. All four had been quiet the whole walk, and now all four sat, silent and looking at the stars. The bag of weed lay untouched, unceremoniously on the ground by Shea's feet. No one had spoken since they arrived at the top, and the thin air hung heavy with tension and stress. Denny decided to cut it.  
"How are you, CJ?" He leaned around Vaughn to look at him.  
"Fine."  
"I'm sorry about Elliot, he's pretty much always been like this."  
CJ shrugged.  
It fell silent again.  
Vaughn laid back on the ground behind them and slid his black cowboy hat up and over his face. CJ's eyes drifted over to his form and stayed there.  
"We, uh, usually have a lot more fun than this," Shea smiled sheepishly. "In fact, why don't we get down to business?"  
Vaughn faintly groaned as he hoisted himself back up into a sitting position, hat still heavy over his eyes. Denny dug around in the backpack for rolling papers. CJ peered around the cowboy's shoulder at Shea to watch him get down to business, but he thought he saw a split second of the first blunt hovering, before Denny's hands came down with it and he whispered to Shea.  
The pit of CJ's stomach began to turn sour. He mentally recounted all of the weird little events he'd seen, and even though there was an easy, safe explanation in a traumatized memory, he couldn't shake the feeling everyone on this damn island was hiding *something* from him.  
Vaughn's hand extended in front of his vacant gaze, a joint squarely located between his middle and ring finger in offering. CJ gingerly took it, and let it rest in his palm. Shea struck a lighter and passed it on down the line, to Denny, to Vaughn, to CJ, and a cloud of smoke rose from the quartet.

* * *

Several packed snacks and a struck campfire later, the group sat in a circle around the flame. Shea and Denny happily chattered to each other while Vaughn laid flat on the ground again, hat over his stomach and silently eating an entire bag of marshmallows. CJ sat silently, his blunt still resting between his fingers. The campfire seemed to dance only for him, and thus, he professed his admiration with steady, devoted attention.  
Vaughn's hand entered his vision, almost startling him, holding one of his jumbo marshmallows up in offering. It took CJ a second to process, but he sheepishly took the treat and began to nibble, eyes still vacant. Vaughn wordlessly resumed demolishing the rest of the bag.  
CJ finished it off before putting his joint out on the ceramic tray by the fire and buried his head between his knees and arms. His already thin emotional dam was weakened by his slight high, and silent tears began to leak from his eyes. He felt embarrassed and all too aware of himself. He took up too much space. He simply didn't belong.  
He heard crickets. Denny and Shea's quiet, lilted voices. Vaughn still eating. What sounded like a raccoon passing by a tree. The wind howling off the mountain shelf. Too much noise.  
Shea caught notice and called out his name. CJ lifted his head just barely up enough to see.  
"Are you okay?"  
CJ shrugged.  
Shea continued to speak but CJ couldn't focus on his words. They turned to gibberish and began to just barely miss his eardrums, and he zoned out, his thoughts screaming.  
They all know. But they didn't care. Denny defended him. Shea seems nice. Vaughn said he didn't care. But that report - and Elliot's mouth - probably informed the whole island chain. They all know. They knew who he was. They know every detail. They're watching him sleep at night.  
Paranoia shivers and angered depression welled in his heart. Shea and Denny were still trying to talk to him, and Vaughn continued to lay on his back, silently eating, like he wasn't even paying attention. Which he shouldn't. Why should he? Why would these guys want anything to do with him? Look at how he ruined their night together. These three probably had fun every week without him, but his presence put a damper on their plans, depressed them all, and now they were too nice to tell him to fuck off. He was a nuisance, his presence was poison. He didn't belong there. They know. They all know and they hate him. They know he's a liar and a thief. They know. Any chance he had of passing was pissed away.  
Voices and noises rose around him like knives in his ears. His thoughts screamed from the inside. They know, they know, they know, they know.  
"C-"  
CJ reared his head back and broke in two.  
"Does everyone on this fucking island know I have a fucking vagina?!" He screeched so loud it echoed.  
Vaughn choked on his marshmallow and rolled over to hack up the piece stuck in his throat. Shea and Denny stared at him, jaws dropped, but Denny's attention immediately diverted to Vaughn and he crawled over to beat on his back and possibly deliver a Heimlich.  
"They, uh, do now," Shea smiled sheepishly, unsure of how else to respond.  
CJ stared horrified at him as the realization of what he just screamed set in.  
"I'm... I'm sorry, I... oh my god."  
"You're fine, you're fine," Shea tried to assure him. "You're, you're not the only trans person on the islands, I wouldn't worry." It took every ounce of CJ's strength to not bolt right that second. The two's heads snapped back to Vaughn and Denny as the former gasped, his airway finally free. His hand shot up to cover his mouth the second he saw CJ's gaze turn, and he sat back panting as Denny rubbed his back.  
"You just nearly put Vaughn in the ground," Denny laughed.  
Vaughn's breathing slowed back down to normal and a sharp pop echoed in the air. Shea, Denny, and most of all Vaughn's expressions turned to horror. The air fell deathly still. CJ's eyes darted between the three of them in confusion.  
"What the hell was that?"  
Vaughn's hand fell from his mouth.  
"No idea," Denny shrugged. Shea and Vaughn relaxed a little, with the former voicing confusion as well.  
CJ felt that eerie rush in his stomach again, but tried his best to ignore it.  
"But yeah, Shea's right," Denny quickly rushed in again to fill the silence. "There's other trans people here. No one really cares."  
CJ collapsed on himself again and looked away. "I... I still had hoped I could just live my life and have no one know."  
"It sadly don't work like that sometimes."  
"Especially when you scream it off the side of a mountain," Shea laughed a little. Denny nudged him in the shoulder. Vaughn reoriented himself and sat upright, his now almost-empty bag of jumbo marshmallows resting by his side. CJ reburied his face.  
"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, you're not even alone here," Denny smiled at him. The brunette raised his face back up again and his eyes grew wide, as if waiting for confirmation. Denny nodded his head and smiled wide.  
"I'm sorry. I'm still not... really adjusting here. I don't think I belong here."  
"You do, more than you know." Shea said, a comforting softness to his voice, his accent tapering off into the wind.  
Another awkward silence blanketed the quartet, before a dark, warm voice spoke for the first time in a while.  
"You do."  
CJ looked at Vaughn, and the two held a tense, almost uncomfortable stare. Shea and Denny's eyes both darted between the other pair, and then at each other.  
"Ya'll need a room?" Denny chuckled, in an attempt to lightened the mood.  
Vaughn broke the gaze first and reached for his last marshmallow. CJ lowered his head again. Shea shared a look with his partner, then jumped in the verbal gap they left open.  
"So... who's up for a snack run?"


	12. C12 - Snacks

The four men shuffled into the rather impressively-sized gas station store at the stroke of 3am.  
"Wait, what happened to all the snacks we brought with us?" Shea said as he dug through his backpack for his wallet.  
"We ate 'em all," Vaughn said as he eyed a rack of candy bars.  
"You mean YOU ate 'em all," Denny side-eyed him and thumped his stomach. "And you ate before we left!"  
"Shut up." Vaughn reached for something on the top shelf. "I'm hungry."  
"You're always hungry," Denny sighed as he browsed the rack below.  
CJ stood awkwardly next to them as he pretended to not pay attention. His eyes drifted toward a rack of mini donuts and he grabbed a few.  
Shea wandered over to the slushie self-serve and CJ subconsciously followed him.  
"So, how you feelin'?" Shea topped off his frozen drink with a lid and gold-colored straw. CJ grabbed a cup and stared at the mediocre selection of flavors.  
"I'm fine. I'm sorry."  
"You're all good, man." Shea gently knuckled his shoulder. CJ found himself unflinching at the brief touch. "I was kind of awkward when I first got here myself," Shea's eyes downturned as he smiled. "My English wasn't that good, I didn't know anyone, all I had was my grandfather. I felt very isolated myself."  
CJ chose an orange straw.  
"But, for the most part, people here are very sweet and welcoming," Shea continued as he looked back to CJ, "Have you met Vaughn's mother yet?"  
"Yeah."  
"She's a gem, I love her." Shea began laughing uncontrollably. "Ahh, I feel like we're all one big family."  
"Even me?" CJ snarked.  
"Of course, man!" Shea continued to giggle here and there, either out of joy or being high, CJ couldn't tell.  
Vaughn and Denny turned a corner to meet up with Shea and CJ, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders and laughing to themselves.  
"Hey, hey, hey, what'chu doing with my boyfriend, old man? Do I need to get jealous?" Shea snorted.  
"Nah, you know I don't roll that way," Vaughn grinned. He shoved Denny off his arm and all three laughed together.  
"Ah yeah, because you're just straighter than a ruler at bible camp, huh?" Denny punched the cowboy's shoulder.  
"Straighter than a razor in a pulpit," He shoved the fisherman back.  
Shea joined in and they continued with a chain of idioms, but the words again all turned to mush in CJ's ears. For some reason he couldn't quite articulate into mental words, his heart felt broken all of a sudden. Not sour, not sad, just shattered. He found himself stealing glances at Vaughn, seeing him smile for the first time since the soft grins at the Comptons' dinner. He quickly power-walked down the aisle away from the group to allow himself to breathe.  
Okay, okay, maybe he liked Vaughn.  
He felt some kind of draw towards him, he couldn't quite explain. He was a gentle giant - he towered over even Shea, who was still pretty tall, and he was quiet and warming and dark. He didn't really understand people's reaction towards him, especially Mark and Elliot's.  
But not that any of that mattered now, as if CJ had any chance with him in the first place.  
He grabbed some candy and a choco taco. He might as well give in to the munchies and admit defeat. Also, he just really wanted that fucking choco taco.  
"CJ! We're checking out!" Denny called out from across the store. CJ gingerly stepped his way back and to the counter with his spoils and stepped up between Vaughn and Shea.  
The cashier rung out Denny and Shea's stuff, and the couple pushed each other over the card reader in a fight to pay for the other's. Shea won and managed to jam his card in before Denny could reach, and they grabbed their stuff and scooted to the side.  
Vaughn dumped his armful of different chocolates in front of the beleaguered cashier. CJ took out his wallet and thumbed through the bills and grimaced when he realized he had less than a hundred dollars left - including the turnip money. He was debating on what to put back when he noticed Vaughn staring at him over his shoulder. He met his gaze before realizing the man was gesturing him towards the counter. The cashier wasn't done scanning Vaughn's hoard of treats, but he pointed to a sliver of spare counter top for CJ to sit his stuff down.  
With all the confidence and pride of a terrified hamster, CJ placed all of his stuff next to Vaughn's. The cashier tried his best to hide his tired sigh, and continued scanning.  
"Are you sure?" CJ asked, trying not to collapse right then and there.  
"Don't worry," Vaughn reached over and closed CJ's wallet and ripped out his own card. His other hand lingered on CJ's hand and he felt all the breath suck out of his chest.  
The butterflies in his stomach fluttered out when Vaughn's declaration of his sexuality leaked into his thoughts again, and he attempted to apply Occam's razor to assuage his soul.  
He's probably just making sure he didn't pay. He's preventing him. He must want to show off or something.  
He looked back over to Shea and Denny, who were watching everything unfold. Denny caught CJ's gaze and smiled before whispering something to Shea. CJ looked away and back to Vaughn's hand, which finally - and slowly - drifted off as he stepped over to pay. He then dropped CJ's bag into his hands, grabbed his own, and began to step away. CJ followed him, slushie in hand.

* * *

The moon painted the wood on Vaughn's porch underneath the four filled rocking chairs. Cigarette smoke and chocolate wafted through the air amongst the small piles of garbage brushed to the side. Conversation had been light, leaving CJ to explore the consequences of fitting his cigarette through the hole of a mini donut. Vaughn was dangling on the edge on consciousness, his hat tilted over his eyes and his body leaned back and draped heavily over his chair, surrounded by plastic carnage. Denny was humming some song to himself as he smoked and rocked himself with a single boot, his other draped across his lap. Shea was intently studying the lavender crystal strung around his neck, as if secrets would ebb from them if only he asked.  
CJ jumped back and launched his creation toward the dirt ground in front of the porch as the mini donut caught on fire. He screamed an expletive causing his newfound friends to slowly gaze over to the scene in front of them. The donut sat, burning, unassisted, until it was a pile of ash and the fire was snuffed out by the dirt under it.  
"Cool," Shea said, his almond eyes wide as dinner plates. Denny laughed, and Vaughn shoved his hat back over his head. Denny stopped laughing and watched the cowboy for a second. One hand on his stomach, one hand digging his short nails into the chair's arm, hat now completely covering his head. CJ sat beside him, still in shock over his dearly departed snack.  
"Vaughn, are you tired?"  
"Yeah," He stood up rather fast, and began gathering up everyone's garbage. Denny slid himself off his chair in attempt to help, and Shea began grabbing his backpack. CJ's vacant stare drifted over to the scene. Denny and Shea were saying goodbye to them, but he wasn't really registering their words.  
"Weather's gunna be good tomorrow, I have to get up early anyway," Denny tried to assure him as his boyfriend's head rested on his shoulder from behind, bemoaning his exhaustion.  
The three said their goodbyes, and Vaughn turned on his heel to head into his house when he noticed CJ hadn't moved from his chair. He stared at him, unaware of what to say without sounding like an asshole.  
"I, uh, gotta sleep. Go home." Okay, maybe that wasn't quite what Vaughn was aiming for, but.  
CJ drifted up towards him, hands folded in his lap. He remained silent, staring.  
"CJ," Vaughn said with intent to follow up, but his voice fell from his mouth.  
CJ stood up and stumbled off the porch. He tripped over a rock and fell to his knees, as graceful as a head-on collision. Vaughn grimaced. He had had close to his limit of social interaction tonight, but CJ's cognitive functions were currently melting and dripping out of his ears.  
He wasn't sure what to do.


	13. C13 - Happy

CJ practically fell into his shack as Vaughn held the door open for him. His high had long since passed, but in its wake had left his mind broken and his filter no more than a sheet of rice paper in a tornado. Vaughn's heart sank as he saw the still shattered TV laying abandoned on the floor. The brunette sauntered across his wooden floor, throwing his pack of cigarettes at his nightstand and missing completely before throwing himself upon the old couch, thankfully sticking the landing. Vaughn noticed his dangling hand, and took the other man's phone from his limp grip. He looked around before finding his well-worn charger, and plugged it in.  
"Thank you, all you, ya'll make my life not hurt so much," CJ's words started to slur as his volume control checked out of the motel that was his brain. His eyelids drooped.  
Vaughn hid in the darkness by the door as he watched CJ pass out. He left without a word.

* * *

CJ awoke to his phone's ringtone tearing off his ears. He shot up, still in his smoke-worn clothing and boots from the night before, and searched for wherever his phone disappeared to. He hauled himself to his feet, dived toward the wall outlet, and unlocked it without checking.  
"Hello?" He groaned into the microphone. No response. CJ lifted the phone away and checked the name. It was Mark, but CJ heard nothing but silence on the other end. He hung up and texted his brother. Not a minute after, Mark's typing icon came up, with a confirmation. He hadn't called. CJ's finger drifted through his call log, but the previous call didn't exist. His head hurt, but his capacity to care ended there. He locked his phone again and got to work attempting to make himself presentable. Seeing Mark's name had reminded him of some shopping he needed to do.

* * *

CJ exited Chen's shop with a good $20 worth of turnip and potato seeds in his rucksack. He was going all out with a good chunk of what money he had left in an attempt to secure income going forward. He was about to turn around and march his way back to his secluded, quiet ranch where he no longer dealt with the danger of social interaction when he noticed a bulletin board to the side of Chen's shop. Out of curiosity, he stopped to read, when something caught his eye.  
Held up with an orange-tipped pushpin was an advertisement for a job at the cemetery.

HELP WANTED  
Grave caretaker/gravedigger when needed.  
Pay negotiable.  
For more information, please contact Gray Brigant.

CJ's eyes grew wide. He took down the contact number and snatched the slip of paper off the corkboard.

* * *

A little past the swamp in the forest lied an expansive graveyard, a tiny decrepit church, and a shack off in the distance. Small, careful steps between tombstones brought CJ to the church, where the graveyard's overseer had directed him to come over the phone. He began to knock on the door, but the first knock shoved the push door in. He shuffled in, embarrassed.  
At the end of the old carpet between the two rows of crumbling pews lied an old statue on an altar. It was broken and jagged, its form slightly resembling a woman. CJ stood for a second, staring, before his attention darted up to the door to the left opening.  
A man in his mid forties wearing coveralls and a trucker hat exited into the church's main room.  
"You CJ?" He asked curtly as he looked back down over the papers he held in his hands.  
CJ's voice faltered, and he nodded.  
"I'm Gray," The man clarified. "I'm the overseer. You'd be working for me."  
The younger man looked back at the would-be statue and felt his stomach begin to turn. The frayed edges of painful memories brushed by his train of thought.  
"Are you a pastor?"  
Gray chuckled, his laugh low and dark. "Hell no."  
CJ's stomach settled.  
"I'm just a mortician that keeps this place in one piece."  
A ratty tapestry fell off the wall and took its hanging rod with it.  
"Well, relatively."  
The two men both gave the same faint laugh.  
"I do funeral rites, too, but only based on what the family wants. I ain't nothin' beyond that." CJ nodded. "So, let's go over the duties. You'll be cleaning headstones whenever they need it, helping me out with funerals, generally maintaining the grounds. Keeping the graves look nice. Digging new graves as needed, etcetera. Ain't gotta work everyday, just when I let you know they need maintenance. May not be that much work per week, but I can give ya $20 an hour. Sound good?"  
CJ took a minute to process it all. He nodded in agreement.  
"Cool." Gray unhooked a ring of keys from his belt loop at tossed them at CJ. He didn't react in time, and they flew past him, landing on the ground behind him. CJ turned around and picked them up off the floor.  
Gray watched awkwardly before breaking the silence. "Those are the shed keys, all the shit you'll need is in there."  
CJ nodded again.  
"You don't talk much, do ya kid?"  
"Sorry," CJ's voice cracked. Gray shrugged.  
"I'll call you when the stones are gettin' grody, and I'll show you how to do it. That alright?"  
Another nod.  
"I guess it's settled then." Gray stepped closer and held out his hand. CJ cautiously placed his own in the older man's, and the two shook on it. A hot vein of fire ripped through CJ's arm up to his spine.

* * *

One heavy moon and plenty of ramen later, CJ got to his feet and wiped his brow. A good few plots each of turnips and potatoes sat freshly planted around him. Watering them regularly would hopefully easy to keep up with, he hoped. His arm muscles ached and he was covered in dirt. His line of sight flew upwards to the night sky above, the stars seeming to twinkle only in celebration of his accomplishment. He reared back his head and shoulders and screamed triumphantly back at them.  
"Suck it, Mark!"  
A cluck of a rather round chicken direction his attention back to the ground, where Adele walked up to his boot and settled down to sleep. He picked her up gently and carried her back to the small coop. He sung softly to himself.  
"Think I'm just happy, think I'm just happy..."


	14. C14 - Maverick

CJ strolled into town that morning, still buried in flannel and old, ratty headphones twisted a certain way to work properly shrouding him. He wasn't quite sure where he was going, but he had wanted to stretch his legs after a night of hard sleep. He glanced up from the old cobble and noticed Vaughn and Denny a little bit above him on the path. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared without realizing it.  
Vaughn had his normally rolled-up jacket sleeves rolled all the way down, collar popped, and a bandanna covering most of his face. A pair of regular gloves instead of his usual fingerless ones adorned his hands, and in addition to his hat pulled down low, not a sliver of skin was exposed. He was pacing around a certain radius as if he were looking for something. Denny, in a tank top and gym shorts in contrast, was attempting to aid in the search.  
"We'll find it, man, relax," CJ heard Denny assure him as he slipped off his headphones and watched. Vaughn responded by gesturing to his outfit, and Denny bit his lip.  
CJ realized he was still standing out in the open when Denny called his name. He silently and awkwardly took a few steps toward his new friend.  
"Can you help us, C? Vaughn lost a black box earlier."  
Before CJ could even respond, Vaughn interjected. "No. He's not gunna. I've got it. Leave us alone."  
Denny swatted his hand at the pacing cowboy. "Ignore sunshine over here. Can you help?" CJ nodded in positive response, his voice lost on the edge of his mouth. Vaughn held up a finger at CJ before pulling Denny aside.  
"What if he opens it, dipshit?" CJ was just barely able to make out what Vaughn was saying but pretended like he didn't hear out of courtesy.  
"And see what, cans? Don't worry about it." Denny gave him a small shove away and walked back over. "Anyway, it's about this big," He motioned with his hands, "and don't open it, okay?"  
CJ nodded again.  
"You really don't have to." Vaughn's low voice muffled under his bandanna.  
"It's okay," CJ finally found a little voice to spare. He stepped away from the pair as they went back to quietly bickering.

* * *

The trio eventually split up into Denny searching around the carpenter's shop, Vaughn backtracing his steps around the animal shop, and CJ inspecting the area next to the grocery store that neighbored the Comptons'.  
It wasn't too long before CJ noticed an odd path into the wall of trees behind the stores. He traveled it on a whim and found it lead to a small forest clearing. At the back of the clearing set a small stump with a colorful array of mushrooms sprouting all over it. However, something - or someone - was sitting on the stump, holding a black box. It looked a small child, but no bigger than CJ's hand. He stared in utter confusion.  
"Hi, you must be CJ!" The small figure sing-songed in a screechy, high-pitched squeak.  
"You sound like Alvin and the Chipmunks," CJ said flatly. He couldn't quite process what the hell was going on.  
The figure leaped from the stump and nimbly dashed across the clearing to CJ's feet where they rested the box. He bent down to pick it up and turned the surprisingly heavy object over in his hands. Some liquid sloshed inside.  
"I believe this belongs to someone you know!"  
CJ offered no response. His fingers grazed a complex latch and for a moment he thought about opening it. But, it wasn't his business. He kept it shut.  
"My name's Coral! Nice to meet you!"  
The man stared down at them. "Hi."  
"I'm a harvest sprite! I protect the islands with my fellow sprites! And-"  
"And you're not real." CJ turned on his heel, box in hand, and left the clearing. Coral watched him walk away, confused.

* * *

CJ held his head as the direct sunlight hit him. He was well used to the odd hallucination here and there, still, his body finally allowed him to shake out a breath. He turned back around to the entrance to the clearing, only to find it gone, as if the trees had rushed in to fill it. A well of relief spilled over him and confirmed his perception. He must have disassociated, as he often had before. Still, he hadn't had any strong hallucinations in a while, and it was a bit jarring to have to ride it out in the middle of public. He hoped no one had seen him.  
He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard someone loudly groaning in agony. He couldn't process who it was right away, only that it came from near the animal shop. Vaughn's box in hand, he jogged over to where he thought the noise originated.

* * *

Julia was sitting on her knees, holding an oversized dark umbrella over herself and Vaughn, who was curled up on the ground next to her, sans hat. Denny kneeled beside the pair, his hand appearing to cover Vaughn's mouth for a moment before he weakly pushed it away and covered his face with his hat. A faint waft of smoke rose from Vaughn's head, and it grew fainter and fainter with every second.  
"I'm so sorry, Vee," Julia grimaced down at him. "I didn't mean to scare ya."  
"It's... okay," He struggled out. "I caught it before it was too late."  
"Are you alright?" CJ's voice was thin and quiet as he interjected, but it still startled all three and caused them to look up at him. Denny placed the hand that had been near Vaughn's mouth behind his back, and Vaughn struggled up to a seating position and recentered his hat on his head. He pressed the bandanna over his mouth until he heard an increasingly-familiar popping noise.  
"Yeah, I'm fine," His throat protested. CJ approached them slowly and held out the box to him.  
"Is this it?"  
The cowboy reached out to take it, and for a brief moment, an orange sparkle shone in Vaughn's exposed eye. He inspected the lock and nodded in affirmation. CJ watched him until heard Julia speak.  
"Hey CJ!" She tilted her head and smiled. He gave a little wave back, and she turned her view back to her brother. "You need to let Mama take a look at ya."  
"I'm fine." He pushed himself to his feet, his strength slowly returning, and sat his bandanna back over the majority of his face.  
"What happened?" CJ ran the cord of his headphones through his fingers over and over.  
"Nothin'," Vaughn responded as he pushed past his sister. He stomped around the building to the front door, disappearing behind the thick wood.  
"I scared him on accident and knocked his hat off," Julia explained. Denny got to his feet and joined the pair.  
"Why did that hurt him?"  
Julia opened her mouth to speak, but found she didn't have an answer. Denny quickly joined in.  
"He's... sensitive to sunlight. He usually takes something to-, for his immune system," Denny's voice faltered a little.  
"Yeah," Julia emptily confirmed.  
CJ looked back and forth between them.  
"Okay."


End file.
